Kyoudai
by Rb
Summary: This is getting worked on, really. Really. Slowly. Part 4 is being written, though! Anyway, it's a story about Iori and some adjustments he's going through...namely, he's about to gain some
1. Kyoudai 01

Aaah! I'm writing a multi-part fic! For shame! Especially because I haven't finished my first one...ah, well, it's a good fic. ^_^

This takes place four years after the 02 season starts. At some point in these four years, the digimon went back to their own world and the digital world's problems were solved until the next batch of poor suckers become digidestined. ^_^;;  
  
Age-wise, here you go:  
  
Iori - 13, seventh grade  
Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke - 15, ninth grade  
Miyako, Ken - 16, tenth grade  
Koushirou, Mimi - 17, eleventh grade  
Taichi, Sora, Yamato - 18, twelfth grade   
Jyou - 19, first year of college  
  
For the sake of being able to incorporate all characters easily, Iori, Takeru, Hikari, and Daisuke all go to Odaiba Junior High (yes, with the GREEN outfits) and Miyako, Ken, Koushirou, Mimi (who's back in Japan), Taichi, Sora, and Yamato all go to Odaiba High School. Jyou still lives at home and goes to college. ^_^  
  
This is mostly an Iori fic, because Iori doesn't get enough fics. And 'cause he's cute. And because he's disturbingly easy for me to write in Teenage Angst mode, while it's so hard to write him in character...-_-;; The rest of the characters will show up, I promise! It's haaaaard to juggle twelve characters! No wonder why a lot of people try to kill off everyone in fics..^_^;;  
  
This is not a romance. It's not a romance, although there is elements of romance in it. It's an Ioriance, which is completely different.   
  
Yes, I know that technically Jyou's crest is the crest of Sincerity. I dislike that translation. I prefer it to be the crest of Faithfulness, 'cause that's a translation of seijitsu, and it describes Jyou well and Iori better. ^_^  
  
I don't own Digimon. If I owned some of the characters, I would be a happy camper. But I don't. And I'm not. So, um, foo. ^_^;; Thank you, Mimi-sempai, Tracie-oneechan, and Kay-chan, for beta-ing and being awesome people and letting me forget about my bedtime. ^_^

**Kyoudai 01  
by Rb**

After I walked into my apartment, I remembered it was the sixth month anniversary, and I was ashamed for not remembering earlier.  
  
I don't have a photogenic memory, not exactly. I remember lots of stuff; passages from books I read, what my teacher says from three years ago, the type of mundane, ordinary things that everyone remembers. Then I have memories of horror that go back so many years, that they've twisted into part of me. I remember the look in my father's eyes when I saw him for the last time. I remember every bit of self-doubt and loathing I've ever felt.   
  
But I still felt ashamed for going to school, taking tests, watching _her_ furtively, and walking home with Takeru-san laughing about something that I can't even remember now.  
  
The only reason I realized today was the anniversary was that I opened the apartment door and was stuck by a feeling of emptiness. The apartment was so quiet...My mom's a journalist and she's often at home, so the emptiness really isn't noticeable, normally.   
  
Today it was there, a musty scent that invaded all corners of the apartment. I went to the refrigerator: it was Mom's and my way of communicating when either of us went out.   
  
I read the note out loud, unsettled by the quiet of the apartment. "Iori, I'm going to work late tonight, I won't be back until about ten. Do your homework and please do a load of laundry afterwards. There's some food in the frigerator and some money on your desk if you want to order out. Love ya!"  
  
Doesn't she realize what today is? Or had she, like myself, forgotten?  
  
I walked into my room and set my bookbag on my bed, anyway. Faithful, reliable me. I'll always do what others ask. I looked around my neat and orderly room, making sure nothing was out of place, before sitting down at my desk and doing homework. Math. Too easy. I've learned to fudge, however, to be less than perfect in many things. There's no use to be picked on without reason -- even though I've grown a lot, I'm still rather slim and lanky. I can't always depend on having 'Takaishi-san' and 'Motomiya-san' appear to fend off would-be bullies.  
  
After finishing off the load of laundry and eating whatever was in the fridge -- I didn't inspect it carefully -- I trudged into my grandfather's unoccupied room and laid down on the bed he hadn't slept in for months.   
  
Only then did I cry, in memory of the dead.  
  
---  
  
She came back late that night. I was sitting on top of my own neatly-made covers, reading a book. She smelt of perfume and wine.  
  
"Hey, Iori," she said, sitting down next to me. "Have a good day at school?"  
  
"Mm," I said.   
  
"That book interesting?" she asked, peering at the cover. I held it up. "Anyway, Iori, on Friday night I'm inviting a friend over."  
  
"What type of friend?" I questioned, my attention arrested. She hadn't brought home any male friends recently, normally it was only inviting a female friend from work or Miyako (when she wasn't busy) and her parents -- quite rarely a potential lover/husband/father.  
  
"A male friend. Hush, you," she said at the look on my face. "He's a nice guy, he's got a son in the high school and another one close to your age, I believe."  
  
When I showed no reaction, she continued, "and they're both coming over for dinner on Friday night, too."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. Normally, kids don't come to dinner unless it _is_ serious. It might not be so bad, though. The last time a kid came over with his father -- about a year ago -- he was five, and ended up throwing food at the walls, cursed off my grandfather, and insisted on watching the most idiotic cartoons I've ever seen. That affair ended quickly.   
  
"I'm sure his children are potty-trained," she said, grinning. Oh, I'd forgotten about that part. "Well, be good, all right?"  
  
"May I invite a friend for dinner that night?" I asked.  
  
"I don't see why not," my mother considered. "Good night, Iori." She walked to her own room.  
  
I looked at my clock. It wasn't that late. I dialed Miyako's number.  
  
"Moshi moshi, Inoue residence," said Miyako's familiar voice.  
  
"Miayko-san, it's Iori."  
  
"Iori!" she said after a pause. "Haven't seen you for a while. What's up?"  
  
"I just wanted to know, do you want to come over for dinner on Friday night?"  
  
Once upon a time, only a few months ago, Miyako would have said "Dinner? At your place? All right! Make sure your mom makes my favorites!" -- which, in Miyako's case, changed nearly every week. And she would have waited at school for me on Friday afternoon, and she would have walked home with me for certain, and gone to my apartment with me, and talked with my grandfather, and fixed my computer, and had dinner with my family and me, and stayed late into the night -- so late her parents would have been worried about her if not for the fact that we lived in the same apartment building. We would have made plans, maybe to go to the park or to the mall and a movie, or just to be together, because we were friends. She would have told me secrets, and I would have listened in awe, just being able to have such a peek into a different person's world. That was what she would have done for practically my entire life, since I moved into the building when I was in first grade and she befriended me.   
  
Instead, she replied hesitantly, "Friday night? I'm sorry, Iori, but I promised Mimi-chan I'd see a movie with her. I've gotta go, see ya!" And I heard the annoying dial tone.  
  
Then, I thought bitterly, Tachikawa Mimi moved back to Odaiba.  
  
I hit the flash button and dialed Takeru.   
  
"I'm sorry, Iori, but I'm going to spend the weekend with my brother and dad," he said, and there was true regret in his voice. "I haven't seen them for a while, and my dad's made it clear he really wants me to be there this weekend." I felt so bad, because Takeru always tries to make time for everyone -- his mother, his brother and dad whom he doesn't see as often as he likes, his other friends, Hikari, me... I could hear the anguish in his voice as he let me down.  
  
"It's all right, don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"  
  
"Yeah!" He cheered up. "I'll try not to be so late tomorrow, see ya!"   
  
"See ya!"  
  
A click.   
  
I considered my choices. I didn't really have many friends outside the digidestined. Making friends has never been easy, and I've always tended to associate with those intellectually equal, rather than physically and biologically equal. Daisuke and Ken always had soccer on Friday evenings; often in the past few weeks I'd watched them. I always felt awkward when inviting a girl other than Miyako to dinner. With Miyako, we'd been friends for so long it didn't matter that she was an older girl. A girl like Hikari would be awkward, especially if Mother's date was the type to make crude jokes. Out of the older children...Mimi was busy, Yamato would be with his brother, and Taichi and Sora would likely be 'studying' with each other. (Hikari sometimes reported how many dirty jokes, pillow fights, and jokes of long-time best friends went on during the study sessions. I wondered sometimes whether Miyako and I would have been like that if she still liked to hang out with me...)  
  
The only two I could have really called, in any case, were my two mentors, two boys I thought of as older brothers to me. Jyou, the serious and reliable boy who had helped me often during the fiercest battles and had helped me redefine myself, and Koushirou, the intelligent and polite boy whose personality was uncannily like mine. It was their traits that I had inheirited, Knowledge and Faithfulness.  
  
I couldn't ask Jyou. Jyou was in college now, and constantly busy. I was so afraid of interrupting his studies. Koushirou would be a better choice. I dialed.  
  
"Moshi moshi, Izumi residence, Koushirou speaking."  
  
"Hello, Koushirou. It's me, Iori."  
  
"Hey, Iori!" His familiar voice crackled with genuine warmth. "How's junior high for you?"  
  
"Good, thank you."  
  
"Making friends?" Great, he sounded like a second mother.  
  
"A few. And how's high school?"  
  
"Ah, challenging but fun!" I heard the steady clicking of keys on the other side of the phoneline as he rapidly typed.  
  
I half-smiled. "Koushirou-san, there's something I have to ask you. Would you come to dinner at my apartment on Friday night?"  
  
"Sure! I can be there by...six? Is that all right?"  
  
"Yes!" We talked of other, trivial things until he had to go. With a promise made, I hung up and laid down flat on my bed.  
  
I think about things when I sleep. I think about my past, I think about the future. I think about friendships, I think about school. I think about _her_. I think about my father, my grandfather, a long line of men going back into the medieval times, lines of duty, lines of honor I'll be expected to uphold. I think about math problems. I think about anything to distract me from how I feel that my life is one huge gaping hole stretching to infinity, nothing new, everything there already but empty, bare of life...  
  
Sometimes I think of that, too.  
  
---  
  
School days. I now wear the Odaiba Junior High uniform. It fits me perfectly, although ironed stiffly. Three buttons buttoned, collar stiff, blue tie tied correctly.  
  
I ate breakfast swiftly and walked downstairs, backpack balanced on my back. I pressed the button for the elevator and it arrived. I entered and pressed the ground-floor button. It's all automatic by now.   
  
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor. Takeru's cheerful face appeared. He wore the same uniform that I did, but it's slightly rumpled, didn't fit him as immaculately as my own. His red and orange cap was on his head, a cheerful monstrosity.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
"Good morning."  
  
We talked as we walked to the junior high. Other students passed us, sometimes waving hello to Takeru. "Hey, Takaishi-san!" No one said hello to me, I'm too new and insignificant. Daisuke ran up and grabbed Takeru's hat. There was a good-natured scuffle to get it back. Takeru won, of course; he's taller than Daisuke by a few inches.  
  
I smiled at my companions' chatter and caught a glimpse of _her_ across the street and a few paces ahead. My heart lifted. A boy walked up to her and started chatting. I stifled an urge towards homicide.  
  
When we entered the school, I seperated from my companions and went to my classroom. I daydreamed through my morning classmates, occasionally scribbling down a note or two. Her seat was right next to the window, I could make it look like I was looking out the window, instead of staring at her. I always retreated into my head for most of the school day...  
  
Lunch passed. I ate with Takeru, Daisuke, and Hikari. They're all popular and well-liked in their class, and the only reason I'm known for anything in this school is because they're my friends. I don't care, but I'm glad that they made a space for me. It was what Miyako did when we were in the same school.   
  
"Hey, Iori-kun," said Hikari. "Do you have any friends in your own grade?" she asked cautiously, sweetly.  
  
My insides curdled. She had that look on her face, the look she always got when she was trying to cut people up and dissect them into bits. "Friends?" I blinked, hoping to give off an air of innocence. "Yes."  
  
Well, it's not a lie, technically. I do have friends, sort of...in a casual way...not friends like them, but friends nonetheless. I mean, they're nice enough...I help Koji with his homework, and Keiko sticks up for me sometimes, when she gets her nose out of her books, and _she's_ a friend of everyone...  
  
Hikari looked at me strangely.  
  
"You know I don't lie," I said steadily.   
  
"Yeah, but..."  
  
"So! Takeru!" broke in Daisuke. "Do you have basketball practice Friday? 'Cause I was thinking if you didn't, then you could come to Ken's and my game. You too, Hikari-chan, Iori."  
  
"Sorry, it's Friday," Takeru said, frowning. "I'm going to my dad's house."  
  
"My mom wants me home," I sighed.  
  
"Hikari-chan?" he asked.  
  
"Sure, I'm free," said the girl.  
  
"It's too bad you guys can't go," Daisuke groaned, then proceeded to take up the rest of the lunch period talking about how he and Ken would rule at their soccer match. "You'll take pictures, right, Hikari-chan?" He was babbling to get Hikari and me to stop arguing, in some subtle way proving his role as the Keeper of Friendship.  
  
Peacemaking was never really Daisuke's thing, not when he was a rambunctious kid pretending to be the leader, but he's grown up and matured a lot. He no longer flirts as obviously with Hikari -- there's still affection for her, anyone can see that with how he treats her, but he's not head-over-heels, he's kinder.   
  
The bell rang, and I left to throw away my trash. I left them all.  
  
---  
  
"Hey, Iori, wait up!"   
  
It's Daisuke. I waited, holding my briefcase in one hand. His bag is crammed full of books; I only have two. He rushed to get closer to me.  
  
"Yes?" I asked when he's close enough to talk to.   
  
"Iori...do you want to talk?" he gasped between breaths.  
  
I gave him a look. "Why?"  
  
"No reason, just though you might want to."  
  
"Did Hikari-san set you up to this?"   
  
"Nnnnn...yeah."  
  
"I don't need Hikari-san to psychoanalyze me. I'm perfectly fine."  
  
"You know how Hikari-chan is!" said Daisuke, grinning. He adopted an outrageously high falsetto. "Daisuke-kun, why haven't you been hanging out with Iori lately? He looks sad. Why don't you talk to him, Daisuke-kun?" He coughed and reverted to his normal voice range. "But, Hikari-chaaaaan, what if Iori doesn't want me to talk to him? I might be older than he is, but he's strong, he won the kendo championships last year, he could pulverize me! But she said, so, Da-i-su-ke-ku-n," he enunciated, "you're afraid of a little boy, you big strong maaaaaan? So, of course, I had to talk to you."  
  
I smiled. Daisuke has that effect on anyone. He makes you smile, through any way possible. Pride is the least important thing for him, and his friends are everything. It's a rare quality among most people I know. It's always nice to be reminded that there are people like him around.   
  
"Seriously, Iori...if anything's bothering you, you can talk to me or one of the others, you know." His voice is warm.  
  
"Daisuke-san..." I considered for a moment. "When you had a crush on Hikari...how did you feel?"  
  
His face changed, but just for an instant. Instead of the grinning boy, there's a flash of pain and a look of sorrow. Then his face changed back. "Iori, is there a girl in your life that you're not telling us about?"   
  
"N-n-no! There's no girls!"  
  
He considered. "Any boys?"  
  
"No!" I blushed. Great. "I just wondered...what it's like to have a crush on someone."  
  
"How do you know..." He paused. "Well, I...I...she's a very pretty girl, you know. And she's kind. And I thought she was perfect in every way. And I couldn't give up. And she never really did reject me, so..." It's his turn to blush. "I guess I was wrong, but..." He flashed a grin, white teeth against his tanned skin. "It's kind of hard to be wrong. Hikari-chan's still one of the most wonderful people I know, and it turned out all right, in the end. I'd rather be her friend than have _nothing_."  
  
I can see the pain in his eyes, though, and I know Daisuke's never really given up, that even now he's still hanging onto her every word, even though he knows he'll forever remain just friends, even though he's dated other girls. I don't know if I want love to transform me into that. I don't know if I could accept that pain into my heart.   
  
I don't know if I can stop it.  
  
You know, there's love and then there's crushes and then there's other things, and I really don't know what my feelings for her are. But a glimpse at her can lighten my day, and when she talks to me I'm so happy, even when it's not very personal, and I wish she talked to me and only me, even though I have no claim over her except for in my own heart. And it's irrational; I have no way of having any control over her, no way to stop these feelings except to confront her...and I can't. I'm a coward, I'm an idiot, I let fear control me, because I just can't take the pain that love causes.  
  
"Thank you, Daisuke-san." I bowed and walked on.  
  
---  
  
"Iori!" Mom yelled the next night. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Yes," I whispered. The safest thing to do when my mother was like this was to retreat. She was cooking, cleaning, and snapping at me all she could. She wanted tonight to be perfect, to impress her guy.  
  
It was too bad Takeru-kun couldn't come, I reflected. He was good at discouraging his mother's would-be suitors. Me, I tended to stare at them and they would try to involve me in conversations with syrupy tones or ignore me completely and ask my mother in the kitchen whether I had any 'problems.'  
  
"Someone's at the door! Go get it, I'm not ready yet!"  
  
Which I translated as, I only have one earring on and my makeup's only half-finished. Having Miyako as a friend for so long has given me a unique view into the female psyche.   
  
I swung the door open. I was wearing my school uniform, still; it was neat and clean and fit me.   
  
"Hey, Iori-kun!" said Koushirou.  
  
"Koushirou-san!" I grinned. "Good to see you!"  
  
He was also wearing his school uniform. After taking off his street shoes, we retreated to my room.  
  
"So, was there any particular reason you wanted me to come?" Koushirou asked me, once we were in the relative privacy of my room.  
  
"Well, my mom's bringing some guy and his kids to dinner, and I wanted someone to talk to -- a buffer, if you would."  
  
"Ah." He wrinkled his nose. "No other reason?"  
  
I gritted my teeth. "Has Hikari-san been telling everyone that she thinks I'm depressed?"  
  
Koushirou squirmed. "Yes."  
  
"I think those psychology classes are ruining her mind," I said bitterly.  
  
"That's not fair." Koushirou ran a hand through his thick red hair. "I took the same classes she did."  
  
"Sorry, Koushirou-san."  
  
"And even besides that, changing schools is a traumatic thing for anyone of any age level. And... well, you're the only digidestined since Jyou to have been the only digidestined in your grade level."  
  
I frowned in concentration. "Mimi wasn't in your grade for a while, she was all by herself in America."  
  
"Yeah, but she had friends in both places." He chuckled. "Do you know how many e-mails she sent a week? At least three e-mails a week to every single digidestined, not to mention her other school friends here. She even sent e-mails to me and Yamato, and we were never really close to Mimi. And she'd call all of us constantly! I think her parents moved back to Japan because it was cheaper than having those long-distance calls to Japan -- of course, now she calls her American friends." He winked.  
  
I grinned, despite myself. "I get it."  
  
"So now we're worried about you, Iori-kun, because you don't seem to have many friends in your grade level, and you seem distracted when we talk...is anything bothering you?"  
  
By now, Daisuke's conversation must have been passed on to Hikari, and from there Hikari would distribute the gossip. Who needs a grapevine, when you've got Yagami Hikari? Sometimes she'd pass on the gossip to _me_, I don't know what she thinks I'd do with it. It was a lot like how Miyako would treat me, but Miyako was different. When Miyako told me information, it was to keep secret. When Hikari told me gossip items, there was always an implication to pass it on -- although she'd never say so, of course.  
  
And that's okay for girls, the people like Hikari and Miyako and Mimi and I guess Sora, to talk and talk and talk and pass on information without ever taking it in, sifting fact from fiction, trying to decide what was real and what was formulated opinion, what I should believe and what I shouldn't. Having that kind of knowledge is much better than gossiping about it.  
  
"No," I shook my head firmly. "No, there's nothing wrong with me."  
  
"I didn't mean wrong, Iori-kun." His voice was gentle. "Is there anything you just want to talk about?"  
  
I met his gaze. "No. Nothing."  
  
I've told a lie, but is it a real lie? Because I don't really want to talk with him, not here, not now. I want to talk about my feelings sometime, yes, but not right now, and maybe not with him. Koushirou-san, for all that he's my friend, is like me. We look for logical patterns in things, and sometimes feelings just aren't logical. He's too much like me to be able to understand love.   
  
I need to talk to Miyako, like how she talked to me, and how we best friends could speak, but because Mimi stole her away, I don't have anyone to talk to anymore...  
  
"Nothing," I repeated, looking Koushirou in the eye.  
  
He started to say something, but he was interrupted my my mother's voice calling "Iori! Get out of your room! Our guests are here!"  
  
I walked out of my room, Koushirou beside me, until I reached the dinner table and met my mother's date.  
  
Her date was an older man, dark hair, sort of rugged looking, a bit tired. He smiled uneasily when he saw me, as if he wanted to place me but he couldn't.  
  
His kids...I sucked in my breath. One was a bit taller than the other, but they had the same blonde hair and cold blue eyes.  
  
"T-T-Takeru-san?" I gasped. "Yamato-san? What are _you_ doing here?"  
  
"Ah!" my mother said happily. "I see you know each other already, there shouldn't be any need for introductions, but we shouldn't forget to be polite! This is my son Hida Iori, and his friend Izumi Koushirou. Iori, this is Ishida Ryuichi, and these are his sons Yamato and Takeru. Now that we've been properly introduced, why don't we eat?"

**To Be Continued...**

Will Iori survive the dinner? How serious is this parents' romance? Who is this girl that Iori loves? Find out next time. ^_-


	2. Kyoudai 02

All bands mentioned in this part are actual J-Pop bands. Special thanks must go to Tachikawa Mimi-sempai for listing the bands and artists that she felt best suited the characters. I recommend all the bands and songs mentioned in this part, they're really cool. (Even the Kinki Kids. ^_^) I did make up a few names and characters sprinkled here and there.

I don't own Digimon. I don't own any of the bands mentioned. I do own several of the secondary characters that aren't really important, but no one cares about them...it's sad. ;_;

**Kyoudai 01  
by Rb**  


I walked out of my room, Koushirou beside me, until I reached the dinner table and met my mother's date.  
  
Her date was an older man, dark hair, sort of rugged looking, a bit tired. He smiled uneasily when he saw me, as if he wanted to place me but he couldn't.  
  
His kids...I sucked in my breath. One was a bit taller than the other, but they had the same blonde hair and cold blue eyes.  
  
"T-T-Takeru-san?" I gasped. "Yamato-san? What are _you_ doing here?"  
  
"Ah!" my mother said happily. "I see you know each other already, there shouldn't be any need for introductions, but we shouldn't forget to be polite! This is my son Hida Iori, and his friend Izumi Koushirou. Iori, this is Ishida Ryuichi, and these are his sons Yamato and Takeru. Now that we've been properly introduced, why don't we eat?"  
  
Takeru and I were frozen in place, staring at each other. Koushirou and Yamato locked eyes and nodded.   
  
Koushirou clamped a hand down hard on my shoulder. "Iori-kun, let's sit." He guided me to a seat on one side of the table and sat down on my right. My mom sat at one of the shorter sides, and Mr. Ishida sat down across from her. Yamato sat across from me, Takeru next to his father.  
  
My mom started bringing in dishes from the kitchen. She'd made a western-style meal, barbequed chicken, mashed potatoes, rice, salad, and soda to drink. Mom rarely was able to cook like this when Grandfather was still here.   
  
Takeru and Yamato both dug in eagerly to the food, and their father wasn't very far behind. Koushirou remembered his manners, and so did my mother and myself.  
  
After a few minutes, Mr. Ishida cleared his throat. "Should we tell them, Akemi?"  
  
My mother nodded. "Yes, Ryuichi."  
  
"Well, as you know, Iori, I've been seeing your mother for quite some time." I didn't know, but I kept a poker face. "I've been thinking, and..two nights ago, I asked her to marry me."  
  
I gasped. Yamato's blue eyes widened. Takeru started gagging over his chicken, which made Koushirou run around the table and give him a hearty slap on the back. Takeru coughed several times.  
  
"Takeru-kun, are you all right?" Koushirou asked, but he was ignored by Takeru, who was on his feet, his meal forgotten.  
  
"Dad!" Takeru glared at his father, his blue eyes blazing. "You're not serious!"  
  
"I am," he answered simply.  
  
I turned to my mother. "Mom, don't tell me you accepted this offer!"  
  
"Iori, I did," she said, smiling. Her eyes were like Miyako's eyes when she sees a cute boy. They glittered with some strange light.  
  
My jaw dropped. "You mean...you and...him...you're going to get married? No way! What about Father?" I begged. "And Grandfather, how can you dishonor them like this!"  
  
"It's not dishonorable for a widow to remarry," said Mom coldly.   
  
"But...don't you love them anymore?" I pleaded. I could feel the tears start in my eyes, no, no, no, I hadn't cried in front of anyone else since I was nine...  
  
"It's not that I don't love them, Iori..."  
  
I turned away in disgust. I didn't want to hear the stories about how they were dead, she wasn't obligated to love them, how it would be good for me to have a man in the house, blah, blah, blah...  
  
Takeru was having a similar argument with his father. Koushirou was looking around anxiously. Yamato was still eating, his blue eyes cold.   
  
"I...I can't believe you, Dad!" Takeru exploded. "I have to go. Oniisan, can you drive me to the Yagami's? I have to see Hikari."  
  
"Sure." Yamato wiped his mouth with a napkin, stood up from the table, bowed to my mother, and strolled out of the apartment, Takeru following him.  
  
"Yamato! Takeru! You boys!" Mr. Ishida called. "Argh...I'm sorry, Akemi. They're strong-willed boys...Natsuko and I gave them too much independence, in retrospect."  
  
"It's all right, Ryuichi. I understand. We _are_ startling them. Give them time..."  
  
The room pulsed around me. Nothing was making sense.  
  
Before, when nothing made sense, I'd always go to Miyako, and she'd be my friend, and comfort me when I felt bad, and talk about my problems, and just be there. So I left the apartment without saying a word, in search of my oldest friend.  
  
---  
  
"Iori-kun," Koushirou panted, "are you all right?"  
  
No, I wasn't all right, but my mind had shut down at the moment. I was operating on instinct, and instinct told me to walk fifteen steps to the right, turn at the corridor, press the 'up' button and ride the three floors to Miyako's apartment.   
  
"Iori-kun, I don't think we should be barging in unannounced!" Koushirou hissed as I rang the doorbell. I shook my head to clear it of all distractions and instead rang in the doorbell code that was so familiar to me, two short, one long, two short. It was Miyako's and my special code.   
  
"Huh?" I heard Miyako's familiar, if puzzled voice, on the other side of the door. It warmed my heart...she was always, always there for me when I needed her. She was there. She was...  
  
When she opened the door, she was different from how I'd remembered. Her huge glasses were gone; instead, her normal brown eyes were an unusual, piercing color. Colored contacts? Her straight purple hair was wrapped in curlers around her head, and her face was made up. She was wearing more makeup than a clown. She wore a pale pink T-shirt and loose, darker pink shorts that looked frilly and _feminine_.  
  
Koushirou made a choking noise from behind me. "Mi...Miyako-chan?"  
  
"Izumi-sempai!" Miyako's face turned red, a color completely different from the colors painted onto her, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. They locked eyes. I felt invisible.   
  
"What _happened_ to you?" Koushirou asked, his voice radiating bafflement.  
  
"Umm...Mimi-chan and some of her friends and I are giving each other makeovers..." Beyond Miyako, I could see other girls in various states of makeup levels and frilly pajamas. I could feel a blush starting.  
  
"You didn't need one until now! You look like..." His voice trailed off in disgust.  
  
Miyako's expression darkened. "Well, excuse me, Mr. My-Computer-Is-More-Man-Than-I'll-Ever-Be!"  
  
"At least I --"   
  
Koushirou's no doubt witty retort was cut off by the appearance of Tachikawa Mimi.  
  
"Koushirou-kun!" Her voice oozed charm, happiness, and good will to man, animals, and the green stuff underneath a bus seat. It made my ears itch. "What brings you to the apartment? You just haaad to see Miyako-chan, didn't you?" Mimi grinned jovially. "Doesn't she look GREAT?"  
  
"Well, actually, she -- "  
  
"Mimi-chan, he's just an ignorant -- "  
  
"Admit it, you're perfect for -- "  
  
"SHUT UP!"  
  
Koushirou, Miyako, and Mimi all just stared at me.  
  
"Shut up," I repeated, although a bit less fiercely. "Just shut up. I wanted to talk with my friend, but she's gone...so, goodbye." I turned and walked glumly back to the apartment.  
  
"Iori!" Miyako started, but too late. I was leaving.  
  
"I've got to go catch up with him, see you," Koushirou said from behind me. After a moment, he said "Miyako-chan?"  
  
"Yes, Izumi-sempai?"  
  
"Take a _shower_."  
  
---  
  
I wandered the hallway in front of my apartment for about fifteen minutes before finally entering. Koushirou was supposed to spend the night, but I made it clear to him that I would prefer to be alone tonight, and he called his parents and was gone within moments.   
  
I thought about what my mother's decision would mean. Marriage...a new father, but he'd never be my father, my father was my father and this new guy could never replace him. Siblings. Brothers, only they weren't really my brothers, would they be? Yamato and Takeru, they'd always talk about their time in the digital world and how much they'd done together, I could never get close to their level of a bond.  
  
I'd be the outsider, the outsider in my own family. I know that Mom always wanted more kids besides me. She'd been pregnant when my father died, but she'd miscarried. She'd love Yamato and Takeru as long as they let her make meals and complimented her. And she and Mr. Ishida were totally besotted with each other...  
  
This left me, and I wasn't sure where I fit in. I wouldn't be all "love love love, look, I have brothers, I'm okay!" I couldn't be like that. I wasn't like them, the golden brothers, good in sports and music and at the top of nearly every class and loved by everyone and...  
  
I wasn't their brother. I wasn't related to them, I was nothing like them. Yes, we were all digidestined, and I was close to Takeru, but...they weren't brothers, flesh and blood. And their father, hah, he wasn't my father, he could never be my father. They couldn't replace my father, my father, my father...  
  
I slipped into my own room, avoiding my mother. Somehow I fell asleep that night, my thoughts whirling me around in my head like a roller coaster. When I awoke from my restless slumber, I couldn't believe my eyes.  
  
"Jyou-sempai?" I gasped.  
  
"Iori-kun," he said, smiling. "We were worried."  
  
"You didn't even get undressed last night," Daisuke added with an uncharacteristic look of worry on his face.  
  
"I was..." No, it hadn't been a dream.  
  
Koushirou stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. "We're here to cheer you up!"  
  
"Yeah!" said Daisuke, pumping his fist in the air, all worry forgotten. "We're going to take you to the mall!"  
  
"Daisuke-kun, we can't write out Iori's day for him," chided Jyou.  
  
Daisuke paid him no mind. "We can eat lots of food..."  
  
"Daisuke-kun, I don't think you should have made those plans without consulting Iori-kun first," Koushirou noted.   
  
"...look at comic books..."  
  
"Daisuke-kun, are you paying attention at all?" Jyou asked.  
  
"...and check out cute girls! Yes!" Daisuke flashed me the V-sign and winked. "What do you say, Iori?"  
  
"DAISUKE-KUN!" yelled Jyou and Koushirou at the same time, with identical distressed looks.  
  
I laughed. "Let's go!"  
  
"Great. Just, um, great. Get dressed, and we'll meet you outside." Jyou and Koushirou manhandled Daisuke out of the room.  
  
As I changed into fresh clothing, I heard a whispered conversation outside my door.  
  
"Daisuke-kun, you idiot!" Jyou's normally mellow voice was rapidly approaching panicky. "Why did you tell him to go to the mall?"  
  
"Because I thought we would escort him, and there are cute girls at the mall..."  
  
"But the others will be there!" Koushirou hissed.  
  
I could just picture Daisuke's face falling. "Ohh..."  
  
"I'm ready!" I called quickly. This eavesdropping was rather dishonest. I walked out of the room.  
  
"Iori-kun, are you sure you want to go to the mall? I mean, wouldn't you rather go to a museum or something?" Jyou's voice was rationality itself.  
  
"Jyou-sempai, I really wanted to go to the mall," I said, which was true -- I wanted to see what they didn't want me to see.  
  
"Fine," he sighed, "but it's gonna be awfully crowded..."  
  
---  
  
Crowded didn't begin to describe the masses at the mall.  
  
The only way I can describe it is such: the world's population is, what, 6.2 billion by now? Well, in this mall, approximately one-third of the world's population decided to go to _this_ mall. People were everywhere.   
  
It felt weird, walking into this crowd. Even though my friends were with me, I felt so alone.   
  
"So, Iori-kun, where to first?" Jyou asked me.  
  
"Uhh.." I shrugged. "The bookstore?" I'd spent many comforting hours there, surrounded by black ink on white paper.   
  
"Excellent choice!" grinned Jyou.   
  
We split up once we got to the bookstore. Koushirou glanced through some magazines, Jyou was looking at science fiction, and Daisuke was at the manga rack. I wandered around.  
  
Then I spotted _her_. She was with a bunch of her friends, all giggling over the latest shoujo manga. I hid myself in the non-fiction section and watched her.  
  
"Hey, isn't that Motomiya?" asked one of her friends.  
  
"Yeah, it is!" _she_ said. "Motomiya's so cool!" She winked, and my heart melted. "Look. Motomiya-saaaan!"  
  
Daisuke's head snapped up. "Ehhh? Oh, it's you, Megumi-chan."  
  
She giggled. "Motomiya-san, how are you?"  
  
"I'm fine," said Daisuke distractedly, as my heart snapped into tiny little pieces.   
  
"Motomiya-san," said another one of her friends, "I saw your game last night, it was awesome!"  
  
"Thanks," said Daisuke. "Hey, have any of you seen Iori?"  
  
"You mean Hida Iori?" asked one of the girls.   
  
"That polite little twerp?" said another.  
  
"Are you baby-sitting him or something?" a third asked, and all of the girls -- _her_ included -- giggled.  
  
"He's no twerp," frowned Daisuke, "and I'm not baby-sitting him, he's one of my best friends."  
  
"Really?" said Megumi, and my heart krazy-glued itself back together.  
  
I grabbed a book at random from off the shelf, coughed, and walked towards them. "I'm right here, Daisuke-san."  
  
"Hey, cool. Do you know these girls?" he asked, giving me a carefree grin.   
  
"Yeah...some of them..." I mumbled.  
  
"We're in the same class, Motomiya-san," Megumi said, and smiled at me. Okay, it was probably directed at Daisuke and not me, but I caught part of it, and it warmed my entire body. "I never knew you had an interest in flower arrangement, Hida-kun."  
  
I stared at the book in my hands. 'A Beginner's Guide to Flower Arrangement.'  
  
"Well...um..." I blushed. Then I laughed loudly. "It's, uh, for my mom! Yeah, my mom! She really, really, wants to learn, uh, flower arrangement!"  
  
This left Megumi and the other girls staring at me a little blankly. Daisuke sweatdropped. "Uh, Iori, let's find the others and go, okay? We've got a busy day."  
  
"Oh, all right, Daisuke-san." I smiled a little nervously at Megumi. "See you, all right?"  
  
She smiled back. "See ya!"  
  
"So," muttered Daisuke in an undertone as he marched me away. "That girl, Megumi...you like her?"  
  
I blushed a darker red. "What?"   
  
"I saw how you acted around her, Iori. I'm not dumb." He cracked a smile. "Not that dumb, anyway. You were acting like how I used to act around Hikari-chan."  
  
"Kami-sama forbid!" I smiled in return. "Yeah, Daisuke-san. I do. Please, keep it a secret?"  
  
"You mean, I'm the only one who knows?" he asked, surprised.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Of couirse I'll keep it a secret, then, Iori."  
  
We reached Koushirou and Jyou, who were standing in line. While they paid for their books, Daisuke convinced the older boys that they 'MUST' go to the music store next. I occupied myself with thinking of _her_ smile.  
  
"Hey," Daisuke said as we were walking to our next stop, "I just realized I don't know what kinds of music you guys like!"  
  
"Is it that important?" asked Jyou.  
  
"It's very important!" demanded Daisuke. "Music is the window into the soul!"  
  
"Isn't it 'eyes are the window to the soul?'" I asked.  
  
"Eh-heh-heh, yeah, I knew that, Iori. But music is very important in discerning the personality of a person! Take me, my favorite band is B'z. What does that tell you about me?"  
  
"You're an uncouth barbarian who has no taste in music?" Koushirou volunteered brightly.  
  
"Hah, hah, very funny. Who do you like, then?" Daisuke challenged.  
  
"Hamasaki Ayumi," said Koushirou evenly, with no trace of embarrassment.  
  
Daisuke started laughing.  
  
"What?" Koushirou asked.  
  
"Never picked you -- " gasp, chuckle, wheeze " -- for a shoujo fan, Koushirou. What next, are you going to be a magical girl?"  
  
Koushirou hmphed. "Well, at least I'm not a --"  
  
"Well," Jyou cut in, "I like Spitz, Fumiya Fujii, and Imai Miki."  
  
Daisuke and Koushirou had identical looks of disgust on their face.  
  
"So, you like sappy music, Jyou-san?" asked Koushirou.  
  
"Do you have a lot of tissues ready when you listen to the music, Jyou-san?" asked Daisuke.  
  
At the same time, they both burst into song. "Watashi wa anata no sora ni naitai..." ("I want to be your sky," Imai Miki. -- ed)  
  
Jyou fumed. I applauded.   
  
"I also like 'Seesaw Game,' by Mr. Children," Jyou said nervously.  
  
"Seasaw game?" gasped Daisuke.  
  
"That song's so..." Koushirou wrinkled his nose.  
  
"GENKI!" they groaned.  
  
"You guys sound like the Kinki Kids," Jyou noted wryly.  
  
"Jyou-san!" gasped Koushirou.  
  
"How cruel!" sniffled Daisuke. "He's mocking my dream!"  
  
Koushirou looked strangely at Daisuke. "If that's your dream, please don't take me along with you."  
  
More laughter.  
  
"So, Iori, what about you?" asked Daisuke.  
  
"Mmm, I don't listen to pop music very much. I like Sakamoto Ryuichi's compositions, they're really gorgeous. I also like Tamaki Koji's music."  
  
No one said anything as we got within sight of the music store.  
  
I sighed. "What, is no one going to challange _my_ music taste?"   
  
"Well, it's not that your music taste is bad, Iori-kun," Koushirou said, choosing his words carefully. "It's just that..."  
  
"It's so out of date!" Daisuke jumped in. "Take my hand, Iori! I'll introduce you to the world of B'z and L'Arc~en~ciel! It'll be a hard journey, but I think I can convert you to good music taste!" He twirled around in front of me and ended up in an overly dramatic position.  
  
Koushirou rolled his eyes. "And you say _I'm_ the shoujo fan, Daisuke-kun. You were made to be a magical girl."  
  
Daisuke made a frightened noise as he got up. "Me? No! I'm too handsome and virile to be a magical girl!" He paused at the door to the store. "Hey, do any of you hear screaming from the music store?"  
  
"How can you tell with all that racket coming from the store?" asked Jyou crankily.  
  
"It's not noise, it's B'z. Fireball. Good song. But that's not part of the song. I think someone's in trouble!"  
  
"Go transform into Magic Bishounen Daisuke and save the day, Daisuke-kun!" Koushirou cracked.   
  
"Hah, hah, very funny," Daisuke grimaced as we entered.  
  
"Hey...isn't that Mimi-san?" I asked, pointing to the girl who was doing most of the screaming.   
  
"You're right, Iori...who's that guy with her, though?" asked Daisuke.  
  
"Hey, is that Yamato-san?" Koushirou wondered.   
  
"Why would Mimi be glomping on Yamato like that?" Daisuke questioned.  
  
I glanced at Jyou, and I swore that steam was rising from his ears.  
  
"Glomping?" frowned Koushirou. "What constitutes 'glomping?'"  
  
"Well, she's holding on to his arms really tight, and she's wailing about something..."  
  
Koushirou, Daisuke, and I slunk forwards, close enough to hear her words.  
  
"Whaaaaa~aaaat?" Mimi squealed at the young girl behind the cash register. "You mean I have to PAAAAY for this item? Are you kidding me? Do you see this big handsome fella besides me?" She gave Yamato's shoulder a pat. "Do you know who he is?"   
  
"Mimi," muttered Yamato, "what are you doing?"  
  
Mimi gave Yamato a flirtacious wink. "Relax, Yama-kuuuuuun." Then, she grinned at the clerk. "This pretty boy right here with me is Ishida Yamato, lead singer of the Teenage Wolves! He's a _very_ good friend of mine, aren't you, Yama-kun?"  
  
"Not when you call me 'Yama-kun,'" Yamato grumbled. Daisuke was choking on his laughter, and Koushirou was holding his breath. I noticed that Taichi and Sora were cracking up at Mimi's performance a discreet distance away.  
  
"You're Ishida Yamato?" the clerk said, her eyes huge and starry. "Oh, wow! Will you sign a CD for me?"  
  
"I-I-I..." Yamato said, tongue-tied.  
  
"Tell you what," said Mimi confidentially to the clerk. "He'll sign alll the Teenage Wolves CDs in the store -- "  
  
"Mimi!" said Yamato, aghast.  
  
" -- If his darling little Mimi-chan can have the latest Kinki Kids CD for free!" Mimi winked. Daisuke and Koushirou facevaulted.  
  
"She likes the Kinki Kids..." groaned Daisuke.  
  
"We should've guessed..." murmured Koushriou.  
  
I looked at them with inquiring looks. "Who _are_ the Kinki Kids?"  
  
"You don't know?" gasped Daisuke.  
  
"Consider yourself lucky," nodded Koushirou.   
  
"Ah." I turned my attention back to the Mimi-drama.  
  
"I can't believe it..." Jyou said, holding his head in his hands. "She's getting a discount if Yamato autographs the CDs...Mimi, this flagrant abuse of your friend's position in the musical world has gone on for long enough!" He marched up to Mimi, who had just paid for her discounted CD. "Mimi, do you have no shame at all?"  
  
Mimi blinked up innocently at Jyou. "Should I?" Jyou facevaulted. I rolled my eyes.  
  
"Yes!" exclaimed Jyou, once he got back on his feet. "Yes, you should! And flirting with a boy that you're not dating -- that's just shameful!"  
  
"Wow, Jyou-sempai's pretty upset," I noted dryly.  
  
Koushirou grinned. "Well, he is dating Mimi. I think he takes this as a personal attack."  
  
I looked up in surprise. "Really, Koushirou-san? Since when?"  
  
"It seems like since forever," he shrugged.  
  
"Huh," I said, and turned away. _I_ hadn't known that. Jyou-sempai with _her_? He was much to good for her...ah, well, it really wasn't any of my business.  
  
"Mimi, you can't just trick your way into getting what you want!" Jyou groaned.   
  
"But it works so well!" Mimi cried. "Jyoooou! You're meeean!"  
  
Yamato looked from one to the other, shrugged, and started signing the CDs. Taichi and Sora watched the Jyou/Mimi argument with a mixture of interest and weariness.   
  
"I'd bet 10,000 yen she bursts into song," Sora said.  
  
"Too easy," Taichi sighed. "Any second now..."  
  
"Y'know, let's come back later," suggested Koushirou to Daisuke and myself.  
  
"Hai," we chorused, and left the store (and Jyou).  
  
"Where to next?" I asked.  
  
"I know!" said Daisuke. He grinned widely. "Ma-ku-do-nu-ra-tsu!"  
  
"McDonalds?" Koushirou asked, sweatdropping.  
  
"Why not?" I said. "It's in the food court, after all."  
  
"All riiiight!" Daisuke exclaimed. "Food!"  
  
I sweatdropped. "You eat more than our digimon did."  
  
He winked. "Well, I'm a growing boy, after all..."  
  
We made it into the food court without any further problems. Daisuke made a beeline for the McDonalds' stand while Koushirou and I searched for a place to sit.  
  
"Is this a good place?" I asked Koushirou, pointing to an empty table a few fet away. "This way, Daisuke-san won't have to walk too far."  
  
Koushirou frowned and squinted in the distance. "Huh...why don't we take a seat over there." He pointed a table quite a long distance away.  
  
"Koushirou-san, that's so far away! Daisuke won't be able to find us! And besides, is that table even empty?"  
  
"We won't know until we get there! Excuse me, excuse me, coming through, impatient computer geek coming through, if you don't give me space I'll trash your computer and delete all your files, move it..." In this manner, Koushirou arrived at the table of his choice, with me following meekly. Unfortunately, two high school students were sitting there. "Excuse me, I'm an upperclassman. I demand this table."   
  
"Izumi-sempai, I -- " one of them protested.  
  
"Shut up and move, Miyazaki-kun." Instantly, they moved. "Sit, Iori-kun. No, not there -- the other chair."  
  
"Why?" I asked, sweatdropping.  
  
"What can you see, when looking straight ahead?"  
  
"Um, your head?" Instantly, Koushirou moved. "Umm...the backs of Takeru-san's and Hikari-san's heads...Miyako-san and...Ken-san."  
  
"Good, tell me more."  
  
Anguished, I stared at him. "Are you asking me to spy on Miyako-san and Ken-san?"  
  
"Nnnnnnnnnnyes."  
  
"Koushirou-san!"  
  
"Shhhh! Just tell me what they're doing!"  
  
"Well, Miyako-san's got her head on Ken-san's shoulder, and she's got both of her hands on his arm, and I can't see Ken-san's expression because Takeru-san's hat is in the way. I refuse to tell you anything else, because the look on your face is rather strange and I'm the closest person to you and I'd prefer you take your anger out on someone else."  
  
Koushirou's eyebrow twitched. "That's it." He started to stand up.  
  
"Ne, Koushirou-san, why are you so upset over what Miyako-san does?" I asked.   
  
He deflated and sat back down. "I'll explain it when you're older, Iori-kun."  
  
Daisuke appeared, holding a tray that was literally layered with food.  
  
"How can you eat all that much?" I asked, my attention diverted.  
  
He laughed uneasily. "Eh heh heh...hey, look! Ken and some of the other kids are at the next table! Hey, Ken!"  
  
"Daisuke!" said Ken, his blue eyes brightening. With a bit of difficulty, he detached Miyako from his arm and came over to our table. "Hello, Koushirou-san, Iori-san," he said, nodding at us, before (predictably) turning his attention to Daisuke. "As always, Daisuke, you have impeccable timing. Thank you for getting me _away_ from her! Wow! Are you going to eat all this?"  
  
"Dig in!" Daisuke beamed. The two boys started to demolish the pile of food that Daisuke had bought at an incredible rate. Koushirou and I sweatdropped.   
  
"You two might as well come over to our table," Hikari called to Koushirou and me. We got up a little sheepishly and headed over to their table. Koushirou slid in next to Miyako, looking nonchalant. I pulled up a chair from an unused table (why couldn't Koushirou and I have sat there?) and sat between Koushirou and Takeru. A variety of courses had been neatly set on the table in a buffet style. Koushirou and I quickly selected our food choices.  
  
"You like _that_?" Miyako suddenly asked Koushirou.  
  
He swallowed his mouthful and nodded. "Yes, it's quite delicious."  
  
"But it looks so...so..._icky_!"  
  
"You shouldn't judge anything by its looks alone, Miyako-chan," Koushirou said mildly.  
  
"But something like _that_ shouldn't have been created at all for sheer aesthetic reasons! It's _ugly_!"  
  
"Miyako-chan, just because -- "  
  
"I bet you hate it and you're just eating it to spite me!"  
  
"... wherever did you come up with _that_ hypothesis?"  
  
"It's perfectly logical, Izumi-sempai!"  
  
"In what universe?"  
  
"Isn't it so cute, the way they bicker?" Hikari said conversationally to Takeru and myself.  
  
"They fight like an old married couple," Takeru noted wryly.  
  
"Exactly so," I sighed.  
  
"Do not!" they both said at the same time. Frightened, they both shut up.  
  
"Anyway, Iori-kun," Takeru said, turning to me, "I have to apologize for the way that I acted at your apartment last night. It was very disrespectful of me." He sounded very polite, very formal, and very rehearsed.  
  
"I accept your apology. I admit, I wasn't very polite, either." I winced a little. "I was in shock, I suppose."  
  
"In case you had any doubt, it's not that I don't want to have you as my brother," Takeru reassured me, and smiled. This was genuine, I knew. Takeru had been one of my closest friends ever since we had met and gone into the digital world together. "It's just...well...it's stupid, but I've always hoped in some part of my mind that my parents would remarry..."  
  
"I'm sorry, Takeru-san." I'd had dreams like that too, that my father wasn't really dead, that he was still here... "Will you still see Yamato-san as often?"  
  
"Well, that's the other part of the deal." Takeru continued to smile, but the light had gone out of his eyes. Hikari touched his shoulder compassionately. "See, my dad had been discussing his remarriage with my mom before he announced it. And it turns out, my mom's been offered a new job in America."  
  
My eyes widened. "Are you going to move with her?"  
  
"Well, my mom doesn't want to disturb my studies and my friendships in such a drastic way," Takeru said sardonically. "She's going to rework the settlement with the lawyers so that I'll live with Dad full-time and visit Mom during vacations and such, like Yamato does."  
  
"That's good, you'll see more of your brother then..." I said, unsure of where this conversation was heading.  
  
His blue eyes glittered. "Ah, but Dad's moving into your apartment after the wedding."  
  
My eyes widened. "So, you and Yamato-san...will be living in my apartment? Full-time?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
I kept my external features under control, but inwardly, my mind was whirling, recalculating. For all that I'd been thinking, I hadn't thought about that...I hadn't thought about how much my daily life was really going to change.  
  
They'd be there, every single minute of every single day, my room wouldn't be as neat and orderly as it was now, but with two older boys, neither of whom could keep anything clean, loud and jarring, everything would change...  
  
But then again, everything was changing, every single minute of my life. Nothing was the same, new feelings, new family, new school, new everything. It was all too much, I couldn't make sense of it anymore. I couldn't take it anymore.  
  
But I couldn't crack, I'm the sensible one, I'm Iori, I'm serious and level-headed and the one that always, always makes sense. Not for one minute could I ever crack. I had to stop my thoughts, slow down their rapid pace...  
  
I met Takeru's gaze. "Yeah. Exactly."

**To Be Continued...**

That was exciting, wasn't it? ^_^ I had much fun writing this part. ^_^ Read and review, please, they brighten up my day. ^_^


	3. Kyoudai 03

Wow, it makes me feel special that people are pleading for the next part of this fic to come out hours after I finished the second part. ^_^;; Unfortunately, that's impossible for me, as I'm lazy as heck and I constantly have too many projects to finish. I'll try to get parts out with more frequency in the future. I am truly sorry about the looong time gap in this part, but I had family obligations and major writer's block (one scene in here took literally weeks to write, and then the rest of the fic came in about two days. ^_^)  
  
I had a lot of help on this part of the fic from the Shidokan Kendo Club Home Page (http://www.cam.org/~hiro/skc/), which is a great resource for those who want to learn more about kendo. 

I don't own Iori or any of the other Chosen and their family. I've given several unnamed characters names, heh. ^_^ I do own Iori's various classmates and friends, but no one cares about them yet, except for me, it's sad. ;_; I also own the theory that too much Freecell can steal your soul -- or at least any chance of a healthy, well-balanced life. My entire family is addicted to Windows games. It's really sad. We'll jockey for positions in front of the computer late into the night, everyone wanting to finish "just one more game..." 

This part pretty much outlines the various romances I plan to have in this fic. Excepting one particular coupling (not counting Iori-kun), I haven't really planned much to do with the romances, so if anyone has any requests for romances/hints/musings, I'm pretty open to interpretations. I may regret this later, but hey! I have no opinion on most of the romances in the series, Those That Want Them might as well get some enjoyment out of this fic. ^_-

**Kyoudai 03  
by Rb**

I held my shinai, the ritual bamboo sword, firmly in my grip and watched my opponent carefully. He thrust his own shinai at my head. I parried easily and turned my parry into a thrust of my own, towards his lower torso. He blocked me.   
  
My opponent was the captain of the kendo team himself, Ishikawa Miki, and it was imperative that I do well. Quickly, so quickly that I could hardly see my own movements, I jabbed my shinai at his wrist. He blocked my hit, but barely. I thrust again, again, and while he deflected all of my shots, I was still confident. He didn't score any points off me during the practice, either.  
  
At the end of the practice round, he removed his bogu, his protective armor. "Good job, Hida-kun," he addressed me warmly.  
  
I removed my own bogu, controlling my blush of pride. "Thank you, Ishikawa-san," I said, bowing.   
  
"Ahh, so formal. It's nice to have someone respectful on the team." He grinned at me. "You are truly skilled, Hida-kun."  
  
"Thank you," I repeated.   
  
"So was your grandfather," he says, looking hard at me. Testing, I think.  
  
"I know." His words had pierced my heart, but I was determined not to let him know that. "You studied with him, ne?"  
  
"Hai." Ishikawa smiled at me. "I remember you sitting in on my lessons. You were a little squirt, but you'd watch every move I did, eagle-eyed. Your grandfather made sure of it."  
  
I remembered that. Grandfather would often have me watch his other students practice. He'd have me study their styles, their reactions. Later, he'd ask me to rate the students and their skill levels.   
  
"Anyway, Hida-kun, you really did well out there. I'm proud to have you on the team." He extended a hand to me, and I gladly shook it.  
  
After practice, I went into the locker room and showered, washing the salty sweat off of my body. I changed back into my school clothes and started the walk home.  
  
I hate walking home alone. It gives me too much time to think about things. I think too much, and the others constantly tell me that while it's good to think, don't overanalyze every detail every moment of your life, Iori...  
  
It's part of me, that part of my mind that won't shut up, that notices every single detail and won't stop buzzing until I pay attention to it, until I think too much, until I retreat into myself and just watch. It makes me good with strategy, chess, war, kendo, and school. It makes me really bad at relationships, at dealing with people, because people are so illogical and confusing you can't ever really predict them...  
  
I'm serious. I'm sensible. That's me. But not even I can predict myself sometimes.  
  
Instead of thinking, I tried to watch others. About a half-block ahead of me was Keiko's tall figure. She's a strange kid, maybe even stranger than myself.  
  
She spends all of her time in class reading books, even when the teacher is teaching us new material. She never speaks to anyone unless it's considered absolutely necessary. The only sport she participates in is kendo -- and she's good at kendo, she's one of the few female students and the only other seventh grader to make the team.   
  
What's even weirder is that she's actually stuck up for me. When some bullies were picking on me because I was smaller and smarter than they were, Keiko told them to stop -- and they stopped. Haven't figured her out. Anyway, it didn't do much good, they were after me the next day, too, and the next -- until Takeru and Daisuke found out what was happening and co-conspired to teach them a lesson.  
  
I haven't had any problems since then.   
  
Keiko's all alone, maybe she's lonely, maybe she's relishing her aloneness. If I was walking home with Miyako and Takeru, then Miyako would be making up stories about Keiko and her 'mysterious past,' and Takeru would urge me to make friends with her. But I'm alone, and I only can act on what I, myself, would do.  
  
I walked on.   
  
I spoke with _her_ today. It wasn't much, just a "Hi, Urawa-san," and a "Hi, Hida-kun," in return, but it still made me happy. Is it normal to feel like that? Just because she's pretty and smart and kind, so kind, doesn't mean that she is someone I should feel this deeply for. But I do. Is that wrong? Is that right? I don't think I'll ever know.   
  
"Boo."  
  
The quiet voice startled me. "Ehh?!"  
  
"Hey, Iori-kun."  
  
"Jyou-sempai," I greeted him.  
  
"I wanted to apologize for how I acted the other day at the mall," he said formally.   
  
"Well, we weren't exactly polite in leaving you behind," I noted.   
  
"Eh heh heh," Jyou laughed, "well...I shouldn't have left you, either."  
  
"It was Mimi-san's fault, anyway," I said. "You shouldn't have to apologize for her actions."  
  
Jyou got an odd look on his face. "Mimi was just trying to distract Yamato. And it worked."  
  
"Distract?" I queried.  
  
Jyou nodded. "We...wanted to get your minds off of the fact of your parrents' engagement," he said carefully. "So Taichi, Sora, and Mimi went off with Yamato, Hikari, Miyako, and Ken went with Takeru, and Koushirou, Daisuke, and I met up with you."  
  
"So, your coming to my home and taking me to the mall...that was planned," I said in a perfectly level voice.  
  
However, Jyou must have seen the anguish in my eyes. "We wanted to see you, though, Iori-kun. We wouldn't have come otherwise."  
  
"So the others didn't want to see me?" Miyako-san...  
  
"Well, we...wanted each of you three to have three visitors, so we worked out who would visit whom. Miyako wanted to be in your group," Jyou said as an afterthought, "until she found out that Koushirou was also to be in your group."  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Let's just say that Miyako and Koushirou are not each other's most favorite people this week." Jyou chuckled. "Or, you can say that they are each other's favorite people, and they can't handle it."  
  
I shivered, although the day was warm.  
  
"Iori-kun, are you all right?"  
  
"Yes," I lied.  
  
His eyes hardened. "Don't lie to me, Iori-kun."  
  
"I'm not lying," I lied further.  
  
"What happened to that honest boy that cried when he told a lie?" Jyou asked rhetorically.  
  
"He disappeared into the distance when his life turned upside-down," I retorted angrily.  
  
"Iori-kun, if you're hurting, you can talk to me."  
  
"You don't understand," I shot back at him.  
  
"Yes, I do understand."  
  
Silence.  
  
"My mother died when I was six," he said suddenly.  
  
My chin jerked up. I'd never heard this story before.  
  
"Cancer. She was very young, but she died and I was powerless to help her. Then my father remarried when I was ten. So don't tell me I don't understand, Iori-kun, because I do."  
  
"You never told me this before, Jyou-sempai," I said after a moment's pause for reflection.  
  
He shrugged. "Was it necessary?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
He gave me a slow smile. "Well, my stepmother and I do get along pretty well. So does my stepbrother Shuu. It doesn't make a difference to me how I got my family members, as long as they are family." His smile stretched and grew. "After all, Iori-kun, you're in my family, too."  
  
---   
  
Dinnertime. I sat at my place at the table. Mr. Ishida was over, as he had for the past few nights.  
  
I didn't mind Mr. Ishida that much. He didn't force me to talk. He didn't ignore me, but he didn't exert himself that much. I had the feeling that he was so in love with my mother, he wouldn't have minded if I had two heads.  
  
Currently, they were discussing wedding plans. Should the wedding be traditional, or Western-style? How soon should it be? (Both of them wanted it soon. I wanted a more traditional estimate, like six more years, but my vote didn't count.) Would Mom continue to work after the wedding?   
  
When Mom and Father got married, I reflected, it was after a respectable amount of time, in a traditional style, and Mom didn't work at all....  
  
"Now," Mom said, and I looked up at her tone of voice. "What do we do about the boys' rooms?"  
  
"Huh?" I asked.  
  
"Well, I was thinking that Takeru could share your room, Iori, and that way Yamato would get your grandfather's old room."  
  
I froze. For a moment, all I could picture was my grandfather's room the way Yamato would have it. The austere elegance of Grandfather's room replaced by the mess that would surely be Yamato's room, rock posters in place of his treasures...  
  
"No."  
  
To my surprise, the word came not from my own lips, but from the throat of Mr. Ishida.  
  
"No, Akemi. I think we're intruding on Iori's life enough without the added pressure of making him share a room -- which he hasn't done his whole life, am I correct?" I nodded wordlessly. "How about Takeru and Yamato share Iori's current room -- I'm sure they wouldn't mind sharing -- and Iori take his grandfather's room?"  
  
"Iori, would you be happy with this arrangement?" Mom asked doubtfully.  
  
I nodded again. "Yes, Mom."  
  
Mr. Ishida nodded solemnly. "Good." He looked straight at me and winked. Then he turned back to Mom. "Akemi..."  
  
I excused myself soon afterwards and went back to my room. My room for not much longer, but long enough.   
  
I wanted to do something to distract me from my thoughts. I signed online out of boredom and signed off shortly afterwards out of frustration. There was nothing to do there. I loaded up the RPG I'd been playing, but closed it down a few minutes later. It didn't interest me. I contemplated the TV and shook my head. No.  
  
I couldn't concentrate on anything. My head buzzed with thoughts it couldn't contain. I thought I would explode.  
  
The phone rang. "Iori, it's for you!" called my mom.  
  
I walked down the hall and took it. "Moshi moshi?"  
  
"Iori?" said a soft, unfamiliar female voice.  
  
"Who is this?" I asked, my brow furrowed.  
  
"It's Keiko. Kuraki Keiko."  
  
_Keiko?!_ "Um, hello. Why are you calling?" I questioned her, confused.  
  
"What's our homework in history?"  
  
I looked at the clock. It was nearly eight. Shrugging, I told her it.  
  
"Thank you, Iori."  
  
"No problem, Kuraki-san."   
  
Silence. I prepared to hang up the phone.  
  
"You were very good today," she said suddenly. "In kendo practice. You were good."  
  
"Thank you." Belatedly remembering that she had also practiced hard, I added, "you did well, too."  
  
"Thank you." There was another pause.   
  
"Well, good night, Kuraki-san," I said finally.  
  
"You don't have to call me Kuraki-san, Iori," came her soft reply  
  
"It's polite. I don't know you that well."  
  
"You could change that." she said as she hung up  
  
"Kura -- Keiko -- " I started, but I was speaking to a dial tone. "Huh! That girl!"  
  
"Girl problems, Iori?" said my mother amusedly.  
  
"Oh, you know how it is, I have to beat them off with a stick," I responded airily, and turned back to my room.   
  
"That son of mine," I heard my mother sigh wth a mixture of amusement and exasperation.  
  
"My boys say the same thing," Mr. Ishida agreed ruefully. "And they aren't lying."  
  
---  
  
I wonder what dreams are. Are they random neurons firing in your brain? Just remnants of your day being brought together in an unpredictable fashion? Or are dreams something deeper and something precious? Are they your hopes, your wishes, and your fears being woven together into an intricate cloth?  
  
In my private, personal dreams, the ones that I experience when I'm awake and alone, I'm happy. _She_ smiles for me and only me, her eyes wide and kind. All my true friends are by my side. And my father, my father places his hand on my shoulder and says "I'm proud of you, Iori."  
  
In my sleep, I soak my covers in sweat as I suffer alone through my fears. My heart is torn apart and scattered. My friends are taken away from me. I see in perfect detail the deaths of everyone who have ever been important to me.  
  
It's true that dreamers often lie about what they dream. They lie to gain sympathy and pity, or they exaggerate about what they see.   
  
But I see things that are real, at least for the moment. And they frighten me.  
  
---  
  
The next day I was early, resulting in my sharing an elevator with -- surprise! -- Miyako. High school started earlier than the junior high and let out earlier, an unfortunate fact which attributed to our growing distance.  
  
Her school uniform was navy-blue. Her purple hair had been cut to her shoulders, and her glasses had long since been replaced by contacts, leaving her bright brown eyes open. Miyako's face was also painted with makeup, although not as garishly as it had been at the sleepover.   
  
Most of the differences from her self of four years ago were both subtle and obvious. She was taller and thinner, and had a more feminine figure. The most alarming change was the air of...grace?...that surrounded her so completely, I didn't think it would let me in.  
  
But she smiled when she saw me. "Iori! How are you?"  
  
"I'm...I'm fine."   
  
"How have you been?" Her tone was sweet. "I haven't really spoken to you for a while. What's been happening?"  
  
"I'm afraid you know the biggest news in my life," I said.  
  
"Mm, yes." Miyako was silent as we descended. "Hey, Iori, I know what!"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"We can hang out this afternoon, just like old times!" Her smile was infectious, and so was her laugh. "I'll wait for you, at your school gate. We can walk home together. You don't have anything to do, do you?"  
  
"No." Kendo club was Mondays, and Academic club was on Thursday. "I'd like to be with you, Miyako-san."  
  
"That's good!" The elevator stopped at the ground floor. "Well, I've got to go, I can't be late!" We both walked out of the elevator. "Wait for Takeru, Iori. You can walk to school together. I've got to go, see ya!" She hesitated, then hugged me for too brief a moment. "Stay strong." And she left.  
  
I stood still. If I didn't move, if I barely breathed, I could still feel the touch of her arms, I could still smell her perfume left in the air.  
  
"Hey," Takeru said, appearing out of what felt like nowhere, disturbing my thoughts. "Are you all right, Iori-kun?"  
  
"Yes." I turned my head to look at the boy. Someday, he would be my brother...  
  
No matter how many times I said it to myself, it still seemed like a dream. I still wanted to wake up.  
  
"Yes," I repeated. "Let's go."  
  
---  
  
School was boring. School is always boring. Ask any kid who spends seven or eight hours at school what he did that day, and his default response will be "nothing." The entire school could burn down, and most teens would slump in their seats at the dinner table and say "nothing much happened."  
  
Actually, not much of importance did happen today. In my literature class, we watched a movie on something or other. In History, Keiko received a detention because she didn't have the homework. What's the point of calling me if she didn't use the information I gave her? In Math we got our test scores back. I led the class, as per usual.   
  
At lunch I sat with Daisuke, Hikari, and Takeru again. Daisuke and Hikari did most of the talking. I spent most of the time sneaking surreptitious looks at Takeru, who was usually looking at the sky. Daisuke invited all of us to his next soccer match. While Hikari and I accepted, Takeru refused.  
  
"I'm busy," he said coolly. His true-blue stare swept over me and I felt ashamed, but I couldn't pinpoint why.  
  
---  
  
The final bell rang. I rose up from my desk and joined the crush of students in the hallways. As always, I felt suffocated in the sudden mix of scents. I almost cheered when I was able to fight my way through the jam-packed halls and out into the fresh air of the great outdoors.  
  
I heard whispers from a group of older boys.  
  
"Hey, who's the babe by the gate?"  
  
"A high-schooler.."  
  
"Man, she's pretty!"  
  
"Miyako-san," I whispered under my breath, and felt a glow in my heart. I'd been worried all day that she would stand me up. I shouldn't have worried. I should have trusted in my friend. I should have believed that she, of all people, would remain faithful to me.  
  
Miyako stood on her tip-toes, beautiful and impatient, searching for me. When her eyes focused on me, her eyes lit up. "Iori!" she squealed, waving. "C'mon!"  
  
I blushed and hurried to her, ignoring the jealous looks of the boys who had been drooling over her. "Miyako-san."  
  
"Hey, Iori!" she greeted cheerily. "What's up?"  
  
"Let's walk," I told her.   
  
We walked out of the school grounds and down the street. With little encouragement from me, Miyako started talking about school, and her friends, and the store, and her voice flowed into patterns and rhythms while I listened, not caring about whether I absorbed the content but just reveling in the memories that her familiarity brought.   
  
"But, Iori, I don't think you're interested in that," Miyako said, breaking us both from the spell. "Is anything bothering you?"  
  
The kindness in her voice nearly made me burst into tears. But what could I tell her? Would she understand?  
  
"Let's...let's go to your apartment and talk there," I said quickly.  
  
"All right," she agreed. We walked in a companionable silence until we reached our apartment building. Miyako punched the button in for her apartment floor. We waited in silence as it ascended. Finally, we reached her apartment. She unlocked the door and opened it.  
  
"Iori, call your mother, tell her you'll be staying for dinner. Don't worry, we'll order out!" she said, grinning at my worried face as I recalled former Miyako disasters in the kitchen. "I'm going to go change in my room. Now, no peeking!" she laughed.  
  
I coughed embarrassedly and picked up her phone, dialing my mother's cell.  
  
"Moshi moshi!"  
  
"Hi, Mom?"  
  
"Iori! How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine. Mom, I'm going to be staying at Inoue Miyako's for dinner tonight, is that all right?"  
  
There was a pause. "Ryuichi was going to come over for dinner, and I was going to invite his sons, too."  
  
"We can do that some other time," I said.  
  
"Iori, I want us to eat together as a family."  
  
Family. The word pierced through my mind and made a tightness in my chest.  
  
"Some other time," I repeated.  
  
She gave a sigh. "Fine, Iori. I love you."  
  
"Love you too." I hung up.  
  
Mulling over my mother's sigh, I sat down at the kitchen table and waited for Miyako to appear.  
  
When she did appear, she was in style -- sort of. She'd changed from her school uniform to a pair of faded purple overalls and a bright red t-shirt. Her hair had been tucked under an ancient yellow bandana. Her contacts had been replaced by her familiar old glasses. Much of her makeup had been wiped off.  
  
She looked very much like how she'd used to, when we were younger, when we were children. Nevertheless, there was a sense of falseness, of fakery. Like an actor pretending to be someone he's not, underneath the costume is a different person waiting to storm out. One thing that Miyako will never be is an actress. She's too pure, too sincere. It's hard for her to hide her feelings, despite the polish and grace she's picked up over the years. It made me sick to my stomach to see Miyako acting.  
  
But I couldn't tell her to stop, because it was all for me. She was doing this all for me, spending the day with me, changing her clothes, and I couldn't hurt her feelings by saying "stop." Miyako didn't realize that I knew that she knew that we'd both changed. We were both different people from our childhood selves. Adulthood -- being a teenager, I suppose -- isn't a cloak you throw on and off. It's something that merges into your skin, merges into your very soul and changes you.   
  
So I smiled, and Miyako and I had become sufficiently distant that she didn't realize how fake the expression was. "Looks good, Miyako-san."  
  
"Thanks, Iori." She smiled, started to run a hand through her hair, stopped as she touched the bandana. "Do you want any tea or something?"  
  
"Tea sounds fine."  
  
"Any particular flavor?"  
  
"No, whatever."  
  
Miyako moved to the stove, her back to me, and started heating the water.  
  
"Ne, Miyako-san? What does love feel like?"  
  
The question was out before I could stop it, but I knew it would have come sooner or later. I needed to know, needed to know what it was I felt for Urawa Megumi, needed to know why my mother was acting so differently, needed to understand this strange feeling that was suddenly overtaking my life.   
  
Miyako's the current Keeper of Love and Purity, just like I hold the attributes of Knowledge and Faith. And while I guess I understand how to be smart, how to be faithful and sincere and reliable, they aren't the same attributes as things that are so deep as Love and Purity. Miyako would understand them, and I needed her to tell me what Love was like, so I could know about it...  
  
Miyako turned around sharply. "Iori?" she said curiously. I blushed furiously. "Iori," she continued gently, "is there someone special in your life? Someone you like?" I didn't need to answer. She can tell the truth.  
  
She smiled suddenly. "Love...It's a secret, but I'll tell you." She paused for dramatic effect, and winked. "You can't understand love, can't define it. Not even I can. It's just something you know and understand without words. To put words to it would cheapen it somehow."  
  
"Cheapen..."  
  
"Iori, I think -- no, I _know_ that you're the most rational person I've ever met. So you're already at a disadvantage. Relax. Love isn't rational. Love isn't something you can explain away. Ride it out. Let it change you." Her eyes grew distant for a moment, as if savoring her own experiences. "After all, the worst that'll happen is that she'll say no."   
  
"But I don't want to change!" I burst out. "I don't want to be different!" I don't want to let love control me, I don't want to be moved. I want to stay me. I don't even know precisely what I'm feeling, Miyako-san, you're not helping!  
  
Miyako looked at me in what can be accurately described as pity. "Iori, you think you're in love, but you're afraid to feel?" I reddened at her accuracy. "Baka!" exploded Miyako. "Idiot! You can't be afraid! You've got to be willing to change!"  
  
"Mi--" I started, but the kettle's whistle drowned out my feeble beginning.   
  
"Ohhh!" Miyako steamed as she whirled back around, turning off the flame. She dashed the boiling water into two cups and finished preparing the tea, banding the cups around in such fury I was afraid she might burn herself.  
  
After plunking a cup down in front of me and settling down with her own cup, Miyako exhaled and faced me. "Iori," she started. "Everyone has to change a little, when they get into a relationship. Take Jyou-san and Mimi-chan, for example."  
  
"Hmm?" I said, only half-listening.  
  
"Well, Jyou-san and Mimi-chan are very different people, so when they started dating, they had to compromise on a lot of little things. They had to get used to each other's idiosyncracies." Miyako went on for a while, happy with the sound of her own voice.  
  
At a lull, I said, "I didn't know that Jyou-sempai and Mimi-san were dating until this weekend."  
  
Miyako looked at me in surprise. "You _didn't_?"  
  
"Mm. Are any other Chosen Children dating?" I asked curiously.  
  
"Hmm." Miyako thought for a moment. "Well, Sora-san has dated both Taichi-san and Yamato-san in the past. None of them are dating right now, they're too busy with school and getting ready for college. Jyou-san and Mimi-chan are dating, as you know. Takeru and Hikari are probably dating, but nothing's official. Daisuke and Ken-kun..." She frowned, then laughed. "I haven't been able to figure out their relationship. They'll figure it out, I'm not worried."  
  
"What about Koushirou-san?" I asked.  
  
Miyako wrinkled her nose and made a moue of discontent. "That guy! I have no clue if he's dating anyone, and frankly I don't care." She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Unless, of course, you know about who Izumi-sempai's dating..."  
  
"Hardly. And yourself?" I pressed.  
  
"Mimi-chan sets me up with different guys every so often. I'm not worried about finding myself a guy." She adjusted her glasses. "And that leaves you, Iori."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yeah. You're so reticent, it's hard to figure out if you like anyone at all or not."  
  
"I'm not dating anyone," I said frostily.  
  
Miyako grinned. "But do you liiiike anyone?"  
  
"I -- I'm not telling Radio Miyako!"  
  
"Geez, Iori, it's like you don't trust me at all."  
  
We shifted off the subject and spoke of other things, of school, of friends. I stayed away from the subject of family, and so did she.  
  
She ordered pizza, and I stayed until her parents came home, and then I made some excuse about having to study and left to go back to my own apartment.   
  
My mother's door was locked. I could hear noises coming from inside. A male's voice, and then my mother's laughter. I didn't stay to listen to any more.   
  
I went into my own room, put on my headphones, and turned up the volume on my CD player, listening to the mystical creations of Sakamoto Ryuichi, trying to drown out the pounding of blood within my ears.  
  
What I would have said to Miyako:  
  
I don't believe that love should change a person. I think that love should make you more _you_ -- more comfortable, less anxious. Love should help you, not hinder your development, not stunt you in any way. I don't want to change the person that I am for any girl...  
  
...not even as perfect as a girl as Urawa Megumi.  
  
But still, I want her to notice me. I want her to smile at me. I want...  
  
Maybe I should try to be more outgoing and less reticent. Maybe.   
  
Maybe I'm thinking too much. Maybe I should just let my emotions dictate what I should do next.  
  
Maybe I've forgotten how to let my emotions decide. I'm so cool and rational and logical and dependable, it's hard, sometimes, to unwind and to be free of the constraints on you. Maybe that's why I like kendo so much, it's disciplined.  
  
Maybe I should sleep.  
  
With my headphones still on and the gentle music etching itself into my mind, I fell asleep. I don't remember what dreams I dreamt. I don't remember if I dreamed at all.  
  
The next morning, as I started the morning ritual, I mourned. I mourned for my childhood self and the carefree ways of being young. Even though I've always been mature, I never fully realized how much of the past we leave behind.  
  
Friendships...  
  
The old friendships I had were not completely broken, but torn. It would be up to me to mend them.  
  
Soon.

**To Be Continued...**

Next part -- hmm, haven't decided yet. ^_^ The soccer match, and time speeds up a little. ^_^


End file.
